


Winter Song

by FairyQueen (etoilecourageuse)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Azkaban, F/M, Loneliness, Second War with Voldemort, Soul Bond, Winter Solstice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 02:37:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5691481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etoilecourageuse/pseuds/FairyQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Narcissa has always adored celebrating the Winter Solstice with her husband more than anything else, but the war causes everything to crumble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter Song

Narcissa Malfoy had always adored the Winter Solstice celebration; Christmas, too, was undeniably beautiful, a truly special day full of laughter and delight as the family gathered together, and yet… Yet she would seek the silence, would seek peace within nature as she prepared for the ritual, gathering herbs in the woods, brewing potions and murmuring quiet spells, filled with such joy, such childlike excitement that she never ceased to smile. 

She had always adored the Solstice celebration, had adored kneeling on the ground beside her husband, the both of them dressed in heavy woollen cloaks to protect themselves from the biting cold and their hands always connected, closely intertwined like their souls. Lucius, too, seemed different on those days, those sacred nights, enraptured as though he had distanced himself from the mortal world and become one with nature. 

She had always adored the Solstice celebration, treating it as though it had been for them, just for them and no one else, not even their son who had long ceased to join them in order to fully focus on Christmas. Narcissa had always adored the Solstice celebration as she felt so blessed, so beyond blessed to have him so close to her, to close her eyes and to think of her family, her beautiful family. There was such love, such endless love inside of her, that at times she believed she might burst, burst and begin to laugh… 

It was a sin to laugh in times like these, Narcissa knew, these dangerous times so full of despair, so full of agony… And yet, yet the Solstice allowed her to forget, released her from any worry at least for one night, as long as she could be with him, her Lucius, her darling husband, her everything. They had once made a vow, had looked at each other and sworn that they would always celebrate together, that on this day they would never be apart, never separated… That they would always love each other, love each other so beyond words, the bond that connected their souls never tearing. They had made a vow… 

How desperately Narcissa had clung to those words at times, feeling foolish as they had been so young, nearly children, but it had given her such strength, such hope… And he had never disappointed her, had done everything to keep his promise. Everything… 

Until they had taken him from her. Until one night they had taken her husband from her, tearing them apart and nearly spitting at her as she so desperately battled against her tears, forcing herself to keep up her composure, to look at them with her head held high and not her face. How dare they… How dare they, they had no right! They had no right… 

But they cared not for their right, cared not for her protest, sharp and cruel, cared not for anything as they took him. 

Gone. Lucius, her Lucius… Gone, the house empty without him, empty and silent. Narcissa had never been a woman who prayed, did not believe in heaven or a God, but that night she had. That night she had prayed for him, had fallen to her knees before their bed and prayed for the first time in her life, prayed for his return, his safety, prayed for his soul… If only the Dementors would not break him, if only they would not harm him as they had harmed her sister… If only he would not lose himself. 

Days seemed to pass like weeks, and weeks like months, months full of loneliness, full of sleepless nights and despair, such despair… How much she missed him, and yet… Yet she dared not visit him in Azkaban, dared not approach the island of terrors, dared not… How much she missed him! The silence within her own home was oppressing, many times nearly causing her to scream but of course she wouldn’t, at least not then, at least not until she retreated to her bedroom, casting spells upon herself that would take her voice from her, as otherwise the elves might hear. Of course she wouldn’t scream… 

Narcissa did not realise at first that the nights had begun to grow longer, the days colder… She did not realise at first that summer had faded, given place to autumn and then… Then… 

Nausea would nearly overwhelm her as she remembered, gasping for air so suddenly. 

Winter. Winter... The Solstice… It was not the same without him, would be nothing… Nothing… How desperately she wished to forget, how desperately she wished to close her eyes to the terrors in this world and to forget, to forget about the Solstice, about everything… 

But no. She wouldn’t, would not forget about what she had adored so beyond belief as otherwise she’d disgrace him, as otherwise… She would not forget, for Lucius. She would not… 

It caused her such pain even to think of him, to think of how happy they had been merely a year before, as Narcissa began her preparations, as so carefully she stirred the cauldron, almost as though she had gone into a trance. It caused her such pain to remember their vow, their beautiful vow that had always given her such strength, that had been broken apart so violently… Had she been furious before, furious at those who had taken her husband from her, furious at herself for surrendering too easily, now there was no anger left inside of her, no rage… None at all. 

Narcissa had always adored the Solstice celebration. But not now, not on this day. She could feel no joy, nothing… She had always adored the Solstice celebration yet tonight she trembled as she stepped out the door to her home, her only shelter, as she closed the door behind her back and began to walk, slowly, haltingly, wrapping her cloak tightly around her body as though to prevent the cold from taking hold of her, fully. 

She had not cried as she had watched her husband being taken to Azkaban, had not wept since, but now tears streamed down her cheeks incessantly, blurring her sight and nearly causing her to cut herself with her father’s dagger, a beautiful Christmas gift from years past that she used only for the highest celebrations, the most important of rituals. 

Slowly, quietly, Narcissa began to chant, ancient spells she had been taught by her grandparents, closed her eyes and nearly absently reached out her hand for Lucius’ as she had done so many times before, as it had become part of the ritual… But a mere second later she realised, could have cursed herself for her folly as she attempted to pull back her arm… 

She screamed as she felt fingers enclosing about her wrist, screamed as dagger and wand fell from her other hand… Who had come for her, who had come to disturb her rite, to torture her even further by denying her to carry out…? 

Hastily she blinked away her tears, turning her head to see, ire boiling once more within her… Again she screamed, releasing a wordless cry of surprise, began to shake her head over and over again, in nothing but disbelief… Impossible… It was impossible, he couldn’t possibly… 

Beside her, as though he had never left, as though nothing had happened, was Lucius. 

Impossible! How… How could he have escaped from Azkaban, how could he… Impossible! Had she lost her mind? Had she lost her mind at last, had she given in to insanity that had circled her for too long, was it her imagination that had come to fool her so cruelly? How…? Lucius… How…? 

“Cissy…”

The sound of his voice, so hoarse, so strange… But it was him. It was… Lucius. How pale he looked in the candlelight, how emaciated and how weary… He was hardly the man she remembered so vividly, the man who came to visit her every night in her dreams, aged by years instead of months… But it was him. His eyes, his beautiful grey eyes, were looking at her, telling tales of horror, of sadness… And yet… Yet there was love, too. Such love… He had not lost himself. 

Lucius. He had returned. He had kept his vow, even now, even… He had returned, returned to celebrate the Solstice with her… He had kept his vow. 

For a moment, Narcissa seemed paralysed, could do nothing but stare at him, stare at her husband who was there, truly there, who had truly… But then, so suddenly, her tears began to flow once more, so suddenly she awoke from her mesmerised state and flung her arms around his neck, careful not to hurt him yet clinging to him, clinging to him so despairingly, her entire body shaking with sobs. He had returned… He had returned! Lucius, her Lucius… He had kept his vow. 

Hours seemed to have passed when at last she pulled away, slowly, reluctantly, as though she were afraid that she could lose him in the moment she let go, as she looked at him with such relief, such happiness and then turned away, releasing him only briefly as she picked up her dagger from the ground, holding it out to him before once more taking his hand, once more intertwining their fingers so closely, smiling. 

She had always adored the Winter Solstice celebration, but only with him, only with Lucius by her side it was truly sacred, truly complete.


End file.
